Houses
by omishiloh
Summary: The Hat can see what defines you. AU/Cross-Overs. Drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: It is fun, is it not, to wonder just what characteristics define us? That, I think, is the real draw of the Sorting Hat.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is for fun.

Warnings: AU.

Houses – _Lily Evans_

She fingered her scarf; black and yellow, repeated over and over again, until the tail of it reach her waist.

It wasn't like she had _meant_ to be Sorted here. But when all that mattered to her was loyalty to her sister, when all she could picture was Tuney's face in the joy it used to have when they played together…

One day. One day she'd be reunited with Petunia. And if it meant working hard to get there, well, she knew when she hugged her again, it would be worth the toil.

* * *

On her gravestone, green ivy grew around - but never touched - the inscription: _the toughest badger who ever lived._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: None of it is mine. Done in the spirit of fun!

Warnings: AU.

Houses – _Regulus Black_

Blast!

He wanted to rip the gold-and-yellow off his uniform, wanted to scream to the heavens curses fouler than he knew how to describe. He kicked his chair instead, relishing the pain of a stubbed toe.

Pain was something he knew. When his older brother had been Sorted, Regulus was submitted to scorching his name off the family tree himself - their father was, if nothing else, very good at manipulation.

And sadistic. If he found out where Regulus was Sorted…well, _pain_ was not going cover it.

"SIRIUS!" he bellowed, charging his way out of the first-years' dormitory. There was going to be a plan, and it would take Sirius' kind of planning to fulfill it.

* * *

Harry blinked. For all their effort, he and Dumbledore had found only a fake locket, and a note that read:

"This is a fake. The other has been destroyed. S.A.R.B."

S..B…

"Sirius!" he hissed. His godfather had a _lot_ of questions to answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I can't help but wonder who else to Sort. Ideas are welcome!

Warnings: AU.

Houses – _Boromir_

He blinked, and took off the Hat carefully, mindful of his reputation. The elder son of the ruling wizard on the Council in Slytherin…he would be fearsome, indeed.

He supposed it made sense. His lord father had included him many times in discussion of the cases that went before the Wizengamot, and not few had required a cunning judgement.

Too, his father had also been Slytherin. It was in his blood.

That night, the young eleven-year-old wrote, _My lord Councilman Denethor, it appears I have been Sorted into Slytherin. I hope you are pleased…_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This _had_ to happen. I do not own it, though. Not mine!

Warnings: AU.

Houses – _The Tenth Doctor_

Brilliant!

A Hat that used telepathic technology to read into the children's minds - and not only that, it could glimpse the future of those minds!

And here he was in the middle of it all, about to be Sorted himself. He whistled to himself cheerfully, tapping one sneaker-clad foot in time.

 _In time_.

Ha!

Outside the castle walls, a blue box sat and hummed. The light on top - your average light, really, but the Doctor swore it responded to him - blinked three times after a faint call of

"RAVENCLAW!"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: There are so many great characters out there, but I admit to leaning toward Tolkien's the most. Not mine, though!

Warnings: AU. Crossover.

Houses – _Curunir_

Mithrandir, older than he, wore well the Prefect's Badge. Even from this distance, he could see it gleam, though the overlarge cap his brother was fond of prevented any glimpse of his expression.

Radagast went before him, two minutes ago, and Curunir was not surprised to see him cheerfully chat with the other Hufflepuffs. Gentle soul, he would find a good many friends as interested as he in Herbology. Thankfully that rid Curunir of the lectures of preferring the sturdiness of iron!

It was now _his_ turn – and he was certain that he would be the best. A feeling, deep in his bones, told him he would rise, mightier than his brothers.

The professor placed the Hat upon his head and he is not surprised when it spoke.

 _You could be great, you know,_ it said. _You could be known for all time._

 _I do,_ Curnir responded. Flashes of glory appear before his eyes – winning not just the House Cup, but being the greatest wizard the World had ever seen.

 _I_ will _rise_.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat shouted, and he finally saw Mithrandir's face: fear.

Years later, when he tutored a young, charming sixteen-year-old, he never imagined that the darkness would betray him.


End file.
